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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22687018">Willy Wonka and the Balling of the Three</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oniisama/pseuds/Oniisama'>Oniisama</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>16th Century CE RPF, Blackadder, Dark Tower - Stephen King, Elizabeth (Movies), Historical RPF, Willy Wonka &amp; the Chocolate Factory (1971)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A Succesion of Lame Jokes Masquerading As Pornography, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Crack, Crack, F/M, Multi, The Pistol Is His Penis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:56:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,370</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22687018</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oniisama/pseuds/Oniisama</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The man in purple fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Roland Deschain and Willy Wonka, Roland Deschain/Elizabeth I of England, Roland Deschain/Elizabeth I of England/Willy Wonka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Willy Wonka and the Balling of the Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the 2017 Friendsgiving erotic fanfic challenge, where I'd randomly drawn Roland Deschain, Willy Wonka, and Queen Elizabeth I as my characters to work it out with.  Presented abashedly at an exclusive literary salon on Valentine's Day 2018.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The man in purple fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.</p><p>The desert was...well, it was a desert.  Dry.  Hot.  Thankfully, hard packed dirt rather than shifting sand dunes.  The occasional cactus.  Some asshole in purple always ahead of him on the horizon.  You know - a desert.  The sort of inhospitable wasteland you might find yourself stuck in once the world had moved on...whatever that meant.</p><p>The gunslinger had lost track of how long he had been slogging his way through this desolate landscape.  Months?  Years?  Long enough to become well and truly pent up, with the only other living soul a garish speck in the distance and his last good lay - and a great many bad ones - back in what remained of Tull.  Tull, that lousy town he had fucked clean off the map.</p><p>The place wasn't all bad.  Upstairs above Tull's single honky tonk he and Allie had gone at it like billy-bumblers in heat, pounding the headboard into the wall the way Sheb pounded out the old songs on the ancient piano below: "Hey Jude", "Shave 'Em Dry", "Get Low", all with the drunks singing along to every one.  Not that it was easy to ignore a mob of rural alcoholics chanting "SKEET SKEET MOTHERFUCKER!" repeatedly, but he was a gunslinger.  Roland Deschain did not forget the face of his father, no matter how weird it was to see his old man's disembodied head floating there while he was balls deep in the saloon keeper.</p><p>With Allie feeding him burgers and Roland feeding her cock, his time in Tull was pretty decent as far as unexpected stops in hillbilly backwaters went.  Then it all went to hell when a crazed preacher woman gathered up the whole town into a screaming mob and tried to murder him for being The Interloper who left fornication and sin in his wake.  When they came at him, Roland's training took over: he dropped trou, drew iron, and proceeded to give every living soul in Tull the fuck of their life.  Interloper?  More like The Intercourser.  Over and over again, Roland shot up gibbering men and hysterical women with his seed.  He did not shoot with his junk - he shot with his mind, wad after wad, until they all lay around him, sticky and obliterated.</p><p>Then he rode into the desert, back on the trail of the man in purple, the wizard named Wonka O'Dim who had seduced his mother with a seemingly endless supply of sugary goodness.  It turned out that the people in his hometown would do terrible, filthy things for fizzy lifting drinks, even his beloved mama.  And now that son of a bitch would pay.</p><p>Sometimes Roland's quarry would disappear from sight and he'd have to track his prey by the crumpled wrappers left scattered across the desert, abandoned artifacts of another place and time with strange words on them.  Roland peered at one he'd found fluttering against a stunted cactus, puzzling over the meaning of "scrumdidilyumptious" before moving on again on his endless hunt.</p><p>Just when he thought he'd die of thirst out in the middle of nowhere, and that he'd never catch his quarry, Roland saw a shape appear in the distance.  As Roland approached, he saw it was a dilapidated shack...and that the man in purple was waiting for him there.  As Roland ran forward, Wonka tottered slowly out to meet him, fell over, and hoped up on his feet again crying, "Hile, Roland of Gilead!  Welcome, my friend!  Welcome to my chocolate factory."</p><p>Roland slowed to a confused halt, looked at the small dusty building in the middle of fuck all and said, "...chocolate factory?"</p><p>Wonka shrugged.  "It leads there, at least.  Just ask Charlie Bucket, the blonde kid who was waiting here when I arrived.  I graciously opened the way through for him - and I'll do the same for you, too, Gunslinger, if you agree to meet my mistress."</p><p>Roland's eyes, already remarkably Eastwood-esque, narrowed even further.  "You would bring me to the clutches of the Crimson King?"</p><p>"Mistress, I said - she's the Crimson Queen, and she definitely wants to meet you, with clutching to be negotiated.  Look, you've been chasing me for a cosmically unknowable amount of time - what is it you want?"</p><p>"To see you dead!", Roland roared.</p><p>Wonka sighed. "Yes, dead, of course.  Never mind that your mother couldn't handle her sugar and threw herself at me.  You people have no tolerance whatsoever.  Fine.  Then what?"</p><p>"I am sworn to seek the Dark Tower."</p><p>Wonka rolled his eyes.  "Of course you are.  In that case, I propose a trade.  If you come and palaver with the Crimson Queen, I will take you to the Tower myself.  You can be dropped off right at the base and save, oh, thousand and thousands of pages. What do you say, Gunslinger?"</p><p>After a long, existential pause Roland sighed and said, "Fuck it.  Why not?"</p><p>Wonka grinned.  "Fuck it, indeed!  I am delighted!  Overjoyed!  Enraptured!  Entranced! Are we ready?  Yes?  Good!  In we go!"</p><p>Wonka led Roland down into the cellar of the way station, where a steel door - a futuristic affair with a number pad lock beside it - was well and truly out of place.  "We wanted to ignore the movie adaptation completely," Wonka said, "but this thing was too useful a plot device to resist."  He entered in a code - 6919 - and the door opened, revealing a blinding light.  Roland gawked.  Wonka grinned.  "Hold your breath.  Make a wish.  Count to three."  Together, they stepped through into another world.</p><p>***</p><p>They found themselves looking out over a vast garden.  At first, Roland thought this the sort of pastoral scenery that he had left behind in his youth, but looking closer he saw that it was...kinkier.  Blooming flowers looked even more like genitallia than usual and the fruits hanging off trees were unsettlingly phallic.  What he'd mistaken for ferns turned out to be bundles of dildos.  A nearby stream had a strange, shimmering look to it and reeked of lubrication.  And, somewhere in the distance, orgasmic cries could be faintly heard.</p><p>Roland boggled for a moment, then whirled on Wonka.  "What is this, some kind of whorehouse?"</p><p>Wonka raised an eyebrow.  "Why?  Did you want a whore?"</p><p>Roland thought about it.  It <i>had</i> been a long time.  Wonka smiled knowingly and then begin to sing:</p><p>
  <i>Come with me and you'll be in a world of pure degineration<br/>
We have all that you keep in your crude imagination<br/>
We'll jump in and begin with erotic stimulation<br/>
Groping hands, throbbing glands, and fellation!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>If your interests skew into vice<br/>
We can introduce you to it<br/>
No matter how debased or prurient<br/>
Any given hole?  Feel free to screw it!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>There is no filth I know to compare with pure degeneration<br/>
Step right in, get nasty, if you truly are freaky</i>
</p><p>Roland stared at Wonka, who shrugged and said, "Sorry, musical numbers just tend to happen here.  You'll get used to it."</p><p>"I won't have time to get used to it, unless you're trying to delay the palaver you promised."</p><p>"I wouldn't dream of it.  Bring her in, boys!"  Wonka clapped his hands and a group of midgets came walking in.  Roland had never seen anyone like them: a short group of men with orange skin and green hair, all wearing tight black leather overalls and nothing else.  They were carrying a chaise lounge with a beautiful, completely nude pale red-haired women resting on top of it.  Well, not quite resting; as the midgets brought the lounge before them Roland saw that the woman was writhing as she pleasured herself with a large, bright pink dildo that was firmly implanted in her ass.</p><p>Wonka gave a bow and said, "May I introduce her royal highness Elizabeth I, the Crimson Queen!  Or, if you prefer, the Virgin Queen - she's 99 and 44/100% pure, you know."</p><p>The virgin queen now had one hand working the dildo and the other rubbing a small pink vibrator against her clit.  Roland looked at Wonka.  "Virgin?"</p><p>"Anal doesn't count.  More importantly, Big Blaine and Little Blaine there aren't doing as much for our beloved queen as they used to.  Isn't that right, Queenie?"</p><p>Elizabeth extracted Big Blaine from her gaping sphincter, looked at it, and sighed.  "I thought this for me would be sufficient, that an ersatz dong would declare that a queen lived and died a virgin.  Well, technically a virgin.  But, that's no longer enough."  Her eyes starred at the Gunslinger's crotch, where his growing erection was clearly visible.  "I want it now!"</p><p>Wonka looked apologetic.  "Sorry, she gets a bit salty when she's like this.  Well, what do you say, Roland?  If you let her ride your tower I'll give you a ride to The Tower."</p><p>Roland didn't say a word, but simply kicked off his boots, removed his pants and unholstered his massive cock, the legacy of a true gunslinger.  He begin to masturbate, grasping himself in the special hold he was trained in, the legendary Sandlewood Grip.  Elizabeth's eyes widened as she spread her legs open and Roland approached her and immediately went into the missionary position.</p><p>Wonka cleared his throat.  "What you're going to just dive right in there before she's had a chance to warm up?  Being randy is dandy but licking her's quicker."</p><p>Roland ignored Wonka.  He had spent too much time in the desert being pent up to wait any longer.  But, before he could push inside the queen, music begin to play in the background and the sex dwarves begin to parade around the chaise lounge, singing.</p><p>
  <i>Oompa Loompa doo-pa-dee-doo<br/>
I've got advice before you go screw<br/>
Oompa Loompa doo-pa-dee day<br/>
If you are wise you'll start with foreplay</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Some take their donk and just shove it right in<br/>
With nary a thought for the state of the quim<br/>
If you are not like the proverbial saint<br/>
You only will dry hump her taint<br/>
'Cause you're too hot and bothered</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Oompa Loompa Doo-pa-dee-dout<br/>
Please take your time when you start to make out<br/>
Then you'll avoid your balls turning blue<br/>
Like the Oompa Loompa doo-pa-tee-do!</i>
</p><p>The Oomopa Loompas marched away, leaving Roland to look at Elizabeth and say, "I cry your pardon, lady.  I have forgotten the face of my father."</p><p>Elizabeth snorted.  "If thy heart fails thee, climb onto me not at all.  Did you not hear me the first time?  I don't care how - I want it now!"</p><p>"But.."</p><p>Elizabeth cut him off.  "Who's Queen, Roland?"</p><p>Roland sighed.  "Yes, ma'mm."  Then, disregarding moral instruction via musical number, he thrust deep into Elizabeth, taking her virginity in a single plunge.</p><p>Wonka decided not to argue any longer.  "Go, Roland, go!  Punch her Golden Ticket!"</p><p>The royal snatch bled across the duvet as the gunslinger balled her.  Roland buried himself into the Crimson Queen to the hilt of his shooting iron.  Elizabeth cried out in ecstasy.  "This is the Lord's doing, and it is marvelous in our crotch!"</p><p>Wonka leered at the sight of their frantic coitus.  "If you love me, love me, eh, Roland?"</p><p>Elizabeth, gasping, said, "Bring your everlasting gobstoper over here, Wonka, and I'll show you love."</p><p>Wonka, deadpanned, "No, please, not that", and then, stripping off everything but his top hat, bow tie, and purple coat, moved over to where the action was.  Wonka slid his cock into Elizabeth's mouth, who begin to eagerly blow her lackey.  As she begin to suck on his balls Wonka said, "That's right - the schlongberries taste like real schlongberries!"</p><p>Before long, Wonka felt himself on the cusp of orgasm.  "All <i>right</i>!", he cried, "Let's get down <i>to</i> it!"  Suddenly, he pulled himself out of Elizabeth's mouth and did a quick flip over the thrusting couple, carefully letting a blast of jizz fly out and land on Roland's head.  He proceeded to flip back and forth, crying out each time and letting lose repeated globs of spunk, methodically drenching Elizabeth and Roland with his seed.</p><p>Sweating and gasping, Roland flipped the Queen over and begin to take her from behind as she steadily pushed her ass back into him.  A group of Oompa Loompas rushed forward to help lift the chaise lounge into an angle more suited to doggie style.  Wonka admired this arrangement and declared, "I think we'll call this position the Great Ass Elevator - though, honestly, it will work fine for any old ass and not just the great ones."</p><p>Elizabeth's cries of pleasure begin to grow louder as Roland pounded away.  Captivated, Wonka begin to recite:</p><p>
  <i>There's no Earthly way of telling<br/>
How loudly the queen is yelling<br/>
There's no telling how the swelling<br/>
Of his cock has his spunk welling</i>
</p><p>Wonka begin to speak louder as Roland and Elizabeth's lovemaking became even faster.</p><p>
  <i>Are they groaning? Are they grunting?<br/>
How long 'til someone is coming?<br/>
Will they keep fornicating<br/>
Until somebody is chaffing?</i>
</p><p>Roland begin crying out with each thrust, as he felt the tension building within him.  Wonka was now practically shouting along with them:</p><p>
  <i>Can their desperate copulating<br/>
Really even be called mating?<br/>
Can their lusts ever be sating?<br/>
Will the friction be abating?<br/>
Before readers begin hating<br/>
Our explicit content rating?</i>
</p><p>With a scream Elizabeth arched her back and orgasamed, her legs clenched tight around Roland as his thrusting became completely spasmodic.  Roland pulled out of her, fistted his cock frantically, and then begin to spurt a truly prodigous amout of jizz all over the Crimson Queen.  Wonka raised an eyebrow.  "Childe Roland to the dark tower came buckets!  Good lord, he's like a fire hose!"</p><p>Shuddering, Roland collapsed on top of the queen, who said regally, "Observe, Lord Wonka, I am covered...in jism."  And then she lay back gasping to collect her breath.</p><p>Once he had recovered enough to speak again, Roland sat up and said, "Alright.  I have no idea what the cosmic implications of all this fucking is, but I've fulfilled my part of the deal."</p><p>Wonka grinned at Roland.  "So you have!  Just as soon as the Oompa Loompas hose you both down we shall depart - for the Dark Tower!"</p><p>TO BE CONTINUED IN SIX YEARS.</p>
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